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by spooklock



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale, Anxious Crowley, Aziraphale loves Crowley, Aziraphale rides Crowley, Blow Job, Crowley loves Aziraphale, Crowley worships Aziraphale, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Gift Giving, Happy Ending, M/M, Male Pronouns, Post-Apocalypse, Romance, South Downs, Supernatural Elements, Teasing, Valentine's Day, cottage, first Valentine's Day, male efforts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22777375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spooklock/pseuds/spooklock
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale celebrate their first Valentine's Day together as a couple. Aziraphale worries that his previous numbness to the day will show through and he won't be able to show Crowley his love for him like Crowley as he deserves to be loved. Crowley worries his past pain surrounding the day will never truly heal.The two take a trip to the South Downs for the first time, and find home in more ways than one.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





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**Author's Note:**

> This is my exchange fic for the Good Omens Valentine's Day Fanworks Exchange 2020, organized by snek-snuggles on Tumblr (that's me!) and gifted to the incredibly azfell-and-his-demon (Tumblr). A huge thank you to them for being so patient while I worked on it and got it to them several days after Valentine's Day, and for all of their support and comfort while I was recovering from some crazy stuff. This work is certainly not my best, which is frustrating, as I would certainly have liked to really outdo myself considering the work is a gift. However, i hope some slice-of-life and sweet smut are enjoyable regardless!
> 
> Also, a blanket apology in advance to anyone who likes to go to the movies on a date. Crowley's just grumpy, don't mind him.

It might be an easy assumption to make that two souls who have known one another for six thousand years have likely run out of things to learn about one another. Easy, sure; but in this case- the case of Crowley and Aziraphale, that is- it would be an incorrect one.

It had taken them all of a few hours post-trials to finally get to it. Crowley had removed his sunglasses and looked at Azirapale with the softest, most adoring gaze. Aziraphale had melted, of course; and straight into his arms. They stood there like that for a long while, too- in Crowley’s kitchen, in the near-dark. With the door locked and the world firmly, finally shut out. Just holding, and being where they belong, at last. 

The following few days had been full of those exact surprises. Because for so long, they had hidden these sides of themselves from one another; the parts of them that hold and want holding. It had never been enough just to dream about them- to imagine what Crowley was like as a partner. To try to piece together who Aziraphale was when he was in love. These are the pieces of themselves they had both simultaneously been desperate to show one another, and needed to hide away for their own good. Because you can know just about anything about someone- they can tell you all the things they like or dislike, you can tell where their skills lie and where their talents end. But to know who they are as a lover takes being theirs. How someone loves says a lot about them, and for all of the time in the world, Crowley and Aziraphale felt the aching gaps in their knowledge of one another. And so, they went about discovering the last few hidden layers of one another. The parts of themselves that make them truly them; the parts closest to their souls, unfolding for one another like the innermost petals on a rose open up to the new spring sunshine.

The way they hold someone, the ways they like to kiss in the morning or when they’re being playful. It’s how Aziraphale’s eyes sparkle when he looks at Crowley while he’s cooking him dinner. The melodic quality of Crowley’s genuine laugh when Aziraphale makes a comment about some long-forgotten bard who used to hang around where the bookshop now sits. The dimple on Crowley’s cheek that appears only when Aziraphale makes him smile a certain way. The way Aziraphale hums in his sleep, off key and to no particular tune. 

It’s what prompts them to say “I love you,” out of the blue (it’s a number of things for each of them; Crowley tends to say it if Aziraphale looks especially angelic, like in certain lighting, or if he does something the old fashioned way for no reason other than that he prefers it that way. For Aziraphale, it’s when Crowley looks especially peaceful. Wrapped in a blanket on the couch, tucked up in bed and fast asleep. Sitting beside him on a bench, with a look on his face akin to relief. As though it’s just occurred to him all over again that they’re through it all, together, and with the rest of time stretched out comfortably in front of them). These are the things that wait, dorment in the pits of their souls; ready to show themselves to the right person. 

  
***  
Aziraphale sat at his desk, gazing out the window; whatever he was reading had been long forgotten. The end of January was just recently behind them, and as he turned the page on his paper calendar (which, upon his noticing it, had prompted a goofy smile from Crowley, a kiss to his cheek, and a very genuine "I love you, angel.") and saw the pink and red artwork on the February page, it sparked a sudden and glorious realization; after centuries upon centuries of Valentine’s Days gone by, he finally gets to spend one with Crowley. Well, in a romantic sense at least- they had spent plenty of February fourteenth’s together, but those all seemed to be simply coincidental.

As an angel of love, he would never admit it, but the day had lost all meaning to him a long time ago. Truth be told, if he’s not on assignment, it often passes without much realization for him. He would almost have rather spent it feeling horribly down; at least then he wouldn’t have felt so soulless. He’s filled with a slight sense of guilt for only just having realized it now, and with only two weeks to go. He would never want Crowley to feel unimportant to him- this was certainly something to celebrate. To have been in love from before Valentine’s Day was even conceptualized and finally, finally get to spend one together, celebrating that love? He wouldn’t dream of letting it slip by unrecognized. Just how he should plan to recognize it though, was yet to be known.

***  
That night, Crowley and Aziraphale lay comfortably under the covers. The sheets are cool, but they're warm; Aziraphale sighs, content, eyes drifting shut as his head rests on Crowley’s chest. "I love you." Aziraphale murmurs up at him.

"I love you too, angel." Crowley whispers into his ear. 

Crowley plays mindlessly at his messy curls, watching in near-astonishment. Eight months ago, if you had told him where he would be tonight he would likely have laughed in disbelief, or called you a rude name before walking off, pretending to be unfazed. And yet…

The bedside lamp is still on, but Crowley would sooner discorporate than disturb Aziraphale now. He blinks hard once, miracling the lights off in their bedroom, lit now only by the dim blue light of the moon outside their window.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispers. Aziraphale hums in response, a bit too asleep already to properly reply. Crowley finds himself distracted tonight, excited by thoughts of what he has planned in just two short weeks. And after so long spent wishing he could be like this with Aziraphale. Millenia passing by, wishing he could hold Aziraphale, kiss him, tell him how he feels. Give him gifts and make him feel loved, showing him exactly how he feels, so that the angel would never have to doubt again. 

There had been countless Valentine’s Days spent drunk and miserable, trying to pretend he didn’t know what day it was. He wouldn’t admit to it, but he had shed more than just a few tears in his empty flat, trying to distract himself with the TV or some ungodly mischief. One year he nearly tempted a happily married couple to two separate extra marital affairs just to be spiteful, but decided he couldn’t bear it and settled for cutting the power to three different London area cinemas instead. Serves them right, he thought. Bastards- lucky enough to have someone to be with and they spend it in a dark room, facing away from one another and not speaking all night. Stupid.

He had slept through most of them- but he was often too stubborn to do so unless the day came and he simply couldn’t stand it any other way. He hated even acknowledging that he felt such a way. He found himself doing anything he could to pretend it wasn’t happening, and even more so that he didn’t feel any particular way about it, let alone the utter, undeniable sorrow that sat low and heavy in his stomach.

There had been a fair few times where he and Aziraphale happened to bump into one another, and those were the only truly manageable ones. They could sit and drink and laugh or walk the path at the park, or even just have one short conversation about some kind of arrangement before parting again. There were plenty of opportunities for miracles and temptations on the day.

There were the proposals that needed to go right in order for certain matches to be secured, conceptions that needed to happen, hearts broken that needed comforting. There were the temptations to infidelity, lust, and gluttony. Greed over jewelry and gifts. Plenty of jealousy to incite in people wishing they had what others had. And that one time, when Crowley jumped at the chance to take on a particularly unpleasant assignment because he knew it would take him to Ohio, where Aziraphale was covering a first date that needed to go well.

But now he has the chance to make up for all of that. He has been planning his gifts for months (well, years really- when he and Aziraphale were not together, he couldn’t help but imagine what he might do if they had the chance to celebrate. So it didn’t take much brainstorming to form his plan of action). He just hopes it’s enough.As he considers all the years of heartache and misery, he begins to worry if the past can ever be made up for. It pains him now, just remembering how he had physically ached to hold or simply speak to Aziraphale. 

It would be just his luck, he thinks; to finally be able to show Aziraphale his heart, and to never fully be able to shake the past away. As he lays there, wrapped over with the angel's sleep- limp body, he realizes this first Valentine's Day must be perfect- for his, ang Aziraphale's sake. For the sake of their future. 

***  
A few days later, Aziraphale is browsing his own bookshop, wracking his brain for ideas. He looks over the romance section, recalling the books he’s read in the past and hoping to spark some kind of inspiration. But nothing seems right. Everything is too cliché, or impersonal. Even the most romantic, the most creative ideas don’t seem good enough. Not for Crowley. Not for them- for what they’ve endured in order to get here. He wants to do something that honors their unique love; wants to give Crowley something unique and special to him.

He sits, feeling quite discouraged. What could I possibly do, what could I possibly give him that could convey just how special and important he is to me? We’ve waited thousands of years, simple chocolates and a few empty words won’t do. The pain of missing Crowley so dearly on each Valentine’s Day that came to pass had resulted in an inability to feel much of anything about the day- but now he wanted it to matter again. And the idea that it may not, that the day might come and he could feel numb to it, terrified him. Crowley deserves better than that, he berates himself. Don’t you love him? After so many years wallowing, don’t you love him enough to care about Valentine’s Day, of all days? Are you even able to love him enough? Or are you like the rest of them- preaching love, but really just an empty, cold shell with a strict moral code that happened to skew to the good side?

No, he thinks. I have to do better than that. Aziraphale looks over to the map of the Universe Crowley had given him years ago to decorate the shop with. He wasn’t sure yet, but he thinks he may be getting closer…

***  
Aziraphale jumps slightly when Crowley’s arms take him by the middle, pulling him close for a warm embrace. They both laugh as Crowley kisses his ear.

“Sorry, love. Wasn’t tryin’ to scare you.”

“It’s quite alright, dear.” Aziraphale folds his pajamas, placing them into his suitcase along with his other clothes.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart? You seem….I dunno, quiet?”

Aziraphale sighs, wondering if he should say anything. He wouldn’t want Crowley to think he wasn’t looking forward to the trip, but he was worried about it.

“Hm? Something must be up, you’re far too mellow. You love packing, especially for a holiday.”

“Oh, you’re right. I know, darling, I’m sorry. I’m- well, I’m a bit worried you won’t like your gift.”

Crowley turns him gently in his arms so he can look Aziraphale in the eyes. “What? Aziraphale, I’ll love it, I promise.” Crowley’s eyes are full of gentle pleading; the thought of not liking something Aziraphale picked out especially for him was astounding.

“How can you know for sure?”

“B’cause…” Crowley kisses his ear again, followed by his forehead, his nose, and then his lips. He thinks to part himself from Aziraphale before speaking again, but decides against it; finding he’s rather comfortable where he is.

“You alone were far more than I could have ever asked for.” Crowley kisses him again, pulling away and going to the window seat to pull the drapes shut over the now-dark window. “Besides, you love me too good to ever need a gift to remind me about it.”

Aziraphale smiles, blushing slightly as he goes about packing the travel-sized bottles of bath products he had prepared earlier. “Yes, I feel the same way. I- wait. Did you say ‘mellow’?”

“What?”

“Just now, did you refer to me as being ‘mellow’?” He exaggerates the word dramatically.

“Uh…suppose so, yeah. Problem?”

Aziraphale gestures towards himself, then spreads his arms in a sort of ‘behold, me’ fashion. “Do I look like the sort of fellow one could describe as being ‘mellow’?”

“I just meant you’re-“ Crowley makes a searching sort of noise.

“Choose wisely…” Aziraphale warns playfully, arching a brow and staring at Crowley pointedly.

“-Beautiful, perfect, lovely, sexy, intelligent-“

“Ha! Very funny, am I to believe that’s how you were really going to end that statement?”

“It’s true.”

“Yes, of course it is. But it wasn’t what you were going to say.” Aziraphale agrees playfully, winking at him.

Crowley grins, glad to see Aziraphale able to agree to his compliments now, even if it's usually playful. “I just meant you were subdued, angel. You’re normally pretty jazzed about packing. You excel at it.”

“Jazzed?” Aziraphale arches the other brow, holding back a laugh.

“Oh for the love of- Come ‘ere!” Crowley jumps up, chasing after Aziraphale, who makes it only to the threshold before Crowley catches him, hauling him back in. Aziraphale laughs loudly, letting his head drop back in defeat.

“Crowley!”

“Don’t make fun of me, angel! You’ve said some ridiculous shite over the years, you know.”

“I beg to differ!”

“From the immortal being who brought you ‘get a wiggle on, tickety boo, and oh, what was that the other day? Fuckin’ ‘bee-bop’-still getting over that one. Still getting over it from the first time you said it!” Crowley opens his arms, dropping Aziraphale onto the bed before climbing on top of him and sprawling out.

“Comfy?” Aziraphale accuses.

“Mmmm…”

“You, my dear, are going to run out of time to pack. You should get going.”

“We don’t leave until tomorrow afternoon, angel. Plenty of time!”

“Alright then, but don’t come crying to me when you forgot everything but your pants.”

“Not planning on packing pants, love.”

“What, why on Earth wou- Ohhhhh, I see. Crowley!”

Crowley chuckles mischievously as Aziraphale swats his arm.

***  
Crowley puts their luggage down on the doorstep, taking the key out of his pocket and unlatching the door. He takes the bags up again, shouldering the door open and stepping aside for Aziraphale to walk through. But he sticks a leg out suddenly, putting the bags down on the floor.

“Oh, wait! Hold on, I wanted to-“ Crowley takes his hands, walking him back out.

“What? What are you-?”

Crowley picks Aziraphale up swiftly, sweeping his legs over one arm and cradling him in his arms. Crowley carries him in this time- he shoulders the door shut, now; taking Aziraphale with him through the hallway and into the cottage. The hall opens into the living room, where Crowley turns, letting Aziraphale take it in.

“Living room, complete with lovely views of the beach. Those are actually doors, and there’s a wooden deck out there with chairs we can sit in. Have breakfast, drink, whatnot.”

“Oh, how lovely! Whatnot?"

“Mmm, yeah- you know," Crowley kisses down his neck,"What..." and onto his shoulder, "...not." Aziraphale blushes as Crowley continues showing him around. "There’s a jacuzzi as well. Which is good- it’s cold as shit.” Aziraphale laughs quietly into his neck, more than happy to let Crowley carry him around like this.

Crowley turns, carrying him into the kitchen. “Thought I’d make that pasta dish you like so much for tomorrow. And I’ve got a few bottles of that cabernet we love stashed away in the car. Down this way-“ Crowley says, walking down another short hallway, “-Is the bedroom, and the library.”

“Oh!”

“But of course, my love. As if I could bring you anywhere for more than a day without providing you with the necessities.”

“Oh, you. You’re wonderful, Crowley. This is too much, really.”

“You’ve not even seen the best part.”

“Haven’t I?” Aziraphale asks, placing a soft hand on his cheek and kissing Crowley softly.

“Mmmm…smooth, angel. Very smooth. You’re gonna love this, look.”

Crowley walks through the master suite, with its king-sized bed full of downy white pillows and linens, gorgeous views and access to the deck, and lovely fireplace. Crowley sets him down, pulling him by the hand into the en- suite. On the other side of the wall is another hearth to the same fireplace, shared between bedroom and bathroom, which backs right up to an enormous tub.

“Oh, Crowley- this is perfect!”

“I hope so, angel.” Crowley kisses his hand sweetly, holding it with both of his own hands. There are large candles set up around the side of the tub, luxurious looking robes hanging nearby, and a big window with a view of the ocean. Aziraphale pulls him in for a long embrace, kissing his cheek.

“I have no words, my love. I’m so indescribably happy.”

“Me too, sweetheart. I love you.” Crowley leans in, whispering it again in his ear, warm and low, “I love you.”

Aziraphale kisses him then, so filled with joy at knowing they have three nights here and nothing to do but to be together. No bookshop to run, no London noise. Just the cottage, the ocean, some lovely food, and most importantly, Crowley.

“So angel, should we have a bath, fire up the hot tub, or would you rather just go straight to that glorious looking bed?” Crowley teases.

Aziraphale laughs, nosing at Crowley's cheek. “Actually dear, as tempting as all of that sounds, I would like to get settled first.”

“Get settled? Angel, unpack as you go! Just take stuff out when you need it! We’re on vacation- relax! Let me take care of you…” Crowley kisses the side of his face and down his neck again, holding him close about the waist.

Aziraphale shuts his eyes, melting a bit at the knees before sighing and stepping back slightly.“Trust me dearest, you’ll have a much more enjoyable time if you aren’t thinking about your suitcase in the back of your mind.”

“Angel, I can promise you my suitcase would be the last thing on my mind." Aziraphale pouted at this. 

“Oh, fine! Fine, yes, by all means.” Crowley swatted his bum playfully as Aziraphale smiled in satisfaction. “Just hope you look at me with half as much desire as you look at your luggage.” He muttered, letting him go and crossing the room to get a fire going.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing! Just said I, er, think I’ll call out for a bite. There’s a good Indian place close by, sound good?”

“Oh, yes! Thank you, my love. You know what I like.”

I sure do, Crowley thought to himself with a smile as he sits down on the bed, calling up the restaurant for delivery.  
A little while later, as Aziraphale is finishing up, he hears a light knocking at the glass door. He looks up to see Crowley out on the deck, motioning for him to come closer. Aziraphale pulls the door open, accepting the small kiss from Crowley with a smile.

“Hello, there.”

“All settled, then?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good, come out here with me.” Crowley takes his hand, pulling him gently outside. Aziraphale turns, taking in the set up Crowley has put together, somehow without his noticing. There is a small table, with two cushioned chairs set up side by side. 

“Oh, I thought it would be far too cold to come out here. But it’s not, not at all. And this is beautiful, dear- we can watch the sun set over the water.”

“Think I’d bring you all the way to the beach without planning a way for us to enjoy it? Look over there-“ Crowley points to the corner, where a set of gas lamps glow dim, keeping the area toasty. “You should see this place when it’s warm. It’s really something.”

“Oh? Well, we should plan to come back, then. Perhaps for our anniversary?”

“June it is.” Crowley picks up his glass, handing the other to Aziraphale and toasting the plans.

As they eat, the sun sets below the water, casting blazing streaks of red and orange across the dark blue water and into the fading sky. And, because he can never resist it, Crowley looks on in admiration at Aziraphale’s lovely face in the soft glow of the sunset, and has to say it.

“I love you.”

Aziraphale takes his hand and squeezes it before lifting it to his lips and kissing his palm softly. “I love you too, Crowley.” Crowley kisses Aziraphale’s cheek before standing to clear the plates.

“Why didn’t you go get comfortable, dove? Draw us a bath, or maybe pick a movie?”

“Hmmm…yes, alright. I’ve got an idea.”

“Good, I’ll be in in just a moment.”

***

As Crowley stands at the sink, Aziraphale’s arms wrap around his middle. Aziraphale draws in close, kissing under Crowley's ear and jaw. 

“Nearly done, love. Did you find a movie?”

“No.”

“A book, then? Or should I join you in the bath?”

Aziraphale rubs slow circles into Crowley’s chest, working lower over his stomach, across his low belly, and to his hips. His hands rest on Crowley’s belt buckle and flies as he kisses the demon’s neck softly. Crowley’s breath hitches, his hands stumble over the dish, dropping it and taking it up again.

“I’d rather just go to straight to bed, if it’s all the same to you.” Aziraphale parrots Crowley's words from before. 

Aziraphale licks a slow stripe up the side of his neck, lingering below his ear before continuing across the outer shell. Aziraphale’s hands begin to slide open his belt, as his mouth finds the pulse point on Crowley’s neck and starts to lave hot kisses over it. Crowley’s head falls back onto his shoulder as Aziraphale’s hands slip his zipper down. Aziraphale wastes no time, caressing across the top of Crowley’s hip, intent on getting his hands on what he wants. But it occurs to him suddenly that he’s found bare skin, and not the usual waistband of Crowley’s dark briefs. Aziraphale gasps in his ear, no longer the calm and collected one making the initiative move here. His knees go a bit weak, body pressing into Crowley’s back from thigh to shoulder. He sighs quietly in his ear, his head falling to Crowley’s shoulder now.

“Told ya I wasn’t packing pants.”

Crowley forgets the plate, drying his hands quickly and turning to face his lover. He takes the angel up swiftly, prompting Aziraphale to wrap his legs around Crowley’s waist. Crowley expects to find him in his pajamas, or at least the robe; but he finds nothing but miles of warm, bare skin instead. 

The moment goes from piqued interest to frantic need in a flash, Crowley’s fingers digging into the soft skin of his ass and thighs as he carries the angel off to the bedroom. Crowley begins to laugh into the kiss, light chuckles at first, but then full belly-laughs, making it impossible to keep the kiss going.

“Whaaaat?” Aziraphale pouts.

“No, sorry angel- I just…you were so scandalized about my lack of pants, but you were completely naked. It was very…just very you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you know…a little shy, but too romantic to ever be prudish.”

“You think I’m romantic?” Aziraphale’s back hits the soft mattress, the duvet puffing up around them and framing them in white, downy comfort. They press together, sighing in equal parts relief and greater frustration. Crowley cups his cheek as his hips instinctively stutter forward, eyes falling shut briefly. He opens them again to face his lover with a look of adoration and awe.

“I think you are romance incarnate.”

They slowly meld again, coming together in a reverent kiss. It’s slow, and honest, and naked in the most soul-baring way. Aziraphale strips him of his shirt and pants, and as Crowley lays back down after kicking off the last of the clothing separating them from one another, the feeling of bare skin meeting bare skin creates a palpable shift of energy in the room. The lights fall dim, and the smoldering embers in the hearth across the room re-ignite all on their own.

“Oh!” Aziraphale gasps. They look back at one another, unable to control their giggles.

“We’re just that good, angel.” Crowley whispers in his ear, kissing down the side of his neck with excruciating slowness. He moves his hips again, this time with intention and purpose; rocking firmly, slowly into Aziraphale’s own hips, friction and delicious drag drawing out a long, needy plea from Aziraphale’s throat.

“Any requests? Anything you want, sweetheart; name it.”

“Oh, Crowley…I just want you. I want it all, don’t ask me to choose, please…”

“You’ve got it, dove,” Crowley lowers himself, taking one of Aziraphale’s nipples into his mouth and slowly closing his lips around it. He applies his teeth gently, and Aziraphale moans, bowing off the duvet and into Crowley’s hands at his waist.

“You always have,” Crowley whispers, placing a kiss right over Aziraphale’s heart, lingering there with his eyes shut and his forehead leaning gently against the soft-beating warmth of his chest. Then he moves to the other side, repeating his actions as before.

“And you always will.” Crowley places kisses in a long line down Aziraphale’s stomach, punctuating them in between with a quiet “Always,” with each kiss. Across his hips, down the inside of his thigh. Over his soft calf muscle, all the way down to the instep of his foot. He hooks the leg, limp with desire, over his hip. Then he crosses over, starting on the other side where he left off; up the ankle, the inside of Aziraphale’s long, lovely leg; and finds a home in the crease where leg meets groin.

Crowley holds his hips determinantly, angling Aziraphale towards his mouth like a starving man might tuck into his first meal in days. Aziraphale takes a handful of long, soft hair and pulls; Crowley’s gentle lips here, in such a personal place…They were no stranger to one another, that’s for sure; but it never fails to make him feel seen and loved in the most personal of ways, when Crowley takes him like this, with such eagerness and care. Like even the most hidden parts of him were loveable, not just palatable.

And he could stay like this forever- they both could. Exploring, observing. Feasting. More focused on feeling good than on that one moment; more gifts and generosity than transactions and exchanges. And once Crowley has fully trekked this space, he moves to explore the hip and flank. With slow kisses; a hot, open mouth, laving and sucking, just savoring his lover’s skin, the two-hundredth time were just as glorious as the first.

“Oh, Crowley…”

“Always,” Crowley responds, a continuation of his previous vow. Crowley’s hands spread his thighs gently, and Aziraphale gasps as he sees Crowley's head dip in the warm light of the fire. Aziraphale chokes back a groan as Crowley takes him into his mouth; it's familiar, and all the other times he's felt it seem to catch right up to him, crashing over his body as he experiences it in reality and fantasy. He breathes out a noise of gratitude and pleasure as Crowley works him over, taking him up and down with care. Crowley lingers at the top, licking the taste of Aziraphale's arousal into his mouth. Crowley's eyes watch him with besotted love, while his tongue massages over the head of Aziraphale's cock, leaving him breathless.

Crowley withdraws, kissing down Aziraphale's erection. Aziraphale watches with desperate lust and love that's been simmering on steadily for thousands of years. Crowley takes the sensitive patch of skin just above the entrance to Aziraphale's body between his lips, kissing and sucking lightly at it. Aziraphale cries in bliss, fisting his other hand into Crowley's hair roughly. He backs off a bit, stroking in apology at Crowley's scalp; the other man chuckles against his thigh, nipping a gentle assurance in response. Crowley goes back to the same spot, covering it over with his warm mouth and beginning a series of loving licks. Aziraphale can't help but to close his thighs around Crowley's head, melding with the mattress under his back and dissolving into helpless sighs and whimpers.

Electric tingles of sympathy pleasure and want trickle down Crowley's spine; just watching Aziraphale get off, let alone knowing he's the cause. It has always been a bit too much for either of them. Aziraphale gasps his name, and Crowley can't help taking a shallow thrust against the mattress. He knows instantly that he could come, just like this. He shuts his eyes and whines desperately against Aziraphale at the sound of his name wrapped beautifully in the voice of the one he loves the most. But he's being tugged up now, fingers picking up his chin and gently insisting he rejoin his partner for a kiss. He's reluctant to stop, but happy to be welcomed back in by that sweet, soft mouth.

Aziraphale hums into Crowley's mouth, swiping his tongue inside to taste himself. Crowley moans deep in his chest, rattling against Aziraphale's below him- sometimes he forgets just how truly sinful his angel can be, but it's never long until he's reminded again. Just as Crowley's mind clouds over, Aziraphale takes him by the waist and flips them both over, sitting up astride Crowley's hips. Crowley stares in admiration at the glory that is Azirapahel in the firelight, Glowing hues of yellow, orange, and red painted gently across his skin, glistening across his blue eyes and reflecting heat and bright life back to Crowley. Aziraphale's head falls back as he takes them both in hand, grinding down into Crowley's body and thrusting up into his hand, riding Crowley slowly as he works them both against one another. And oh, poor Crowley- if he weren't bewitched before, he's all but possessed by now.

They watch one another as Aziraphale stops, sighing as he blinks slowly, miracling them both slick. He starts up again, thrusting his hips forward across Crowley's, letting his firm grip fuck them both against one another. The angel rides him with great restraint, savoring the drag of skin over skin and the sounds of Crowley's breathing, hitching and gasping past his parted lips. Watching Aziraphale ride him is like a dream each time it happens; the long expanse of neck, exposed and tossed back in ecstasy that Crowley can't help but to drag a curious hand across. the expressions forming on his face- want and need and satisfaction and questioning, biting his lip before trying a new speed or swivel of his hips. Aziraphale looks on the constant brink of climax, and if it didn't feel so incredible, he thinks he would forget about his whole body and just lose himself watching his angel pleasure himself with his body.

"Ah, Crowley!" Aziraphale begs, as if Crowley were at all responsible for the tight coil of heat in both their stomachs. Aziraphale grasps onto Crowley's thigh, muscle drawn up tight in anticipation. Crowley brings his knees up, cradling Aziraphale between his thighs. His voice cracks as he pleads to Aziraphale. The sound almost breaks the angel's heart; he can see how in need Crowley is, how hard he's been working to hold on for him. Aziraphale takes mercy, stopping briefly only to lift up enough to sink down over Crowley. They both gasp, trying, clinging to sanity and each breath as it comes again.

"Look at me, angel-" Crowley gasps, taking Aziraphale's hand and bringing it to his lips. Neither are sure if Crowley's had shakes, if it's Aziraphale's, or both. But Azirapahle takes Crowley's cheek in his other hand, and begins to move his hips again. Aziraphale sighs slowly as he sinks down again, eyes falling shut. Crowley watches bliss fall over his angel's face, feeling the hot clench of his body around him. Crowley takes him by the hips, following the motions Aziraphale makes with his hands. Aziraphale takes him slowly, letting his head roll back as he enjoys the feeling of Crowley inside him, hard and throbbing for him.

Aziraphale is a beautiful sight, and Crowley simply can't handle it anymore. His hips and back arch off the bed as he grips onto Aziraphale for dear life, shouting in complete abandon. Aziraphale bears down, using Crowley's stomach as leverage to push his hips in harder. Crowley gasps, going rigid below him. Aziraphale tries desperately to keep the rhythm up, but Crowley's gorgeous face and the feeling of him pulsing long and hot inside Aziraphale's body takes his breath.

"Oh!" Aziraphale sucks in through his teeth, "Ah, Crowley!"

"Angel..." Crowley gasps as he watches Aziraphale fall apart over him. "Angel, angel...c'mere..." Crowley whispers, pulling Aziraphale onto his chest as they catch their breath. Crowley pulls the edge of the duvet up around them, miracling them clean and wrapping them in comforting warmth.

***  
The next morning, Crowley wakes to the dim light of day, the distant sound of the waves, and Aziraphale pressed to him, just as they fell asleep last night. The embers simmer warm in the hearth, and they're both warm, wrapped in the loose edge of the duvet. Crowley kisses his temple softly, resting his nose among Aziraphale's curls and inhaling softly.

"Good morning." Aziraphale croaks with a smile, kissing Crowley's shoulder.

"G'morning, angel. Hungry? I can make crepes."

"Mmmm, that sounds lovely dear!"

Crowley laughs softly, kissing the angel's cheek and slipping out of bed, wrapping Aziraphale up again as he shuffles to the kitchen.

Crowley enters again later, with a tray of crepes, juice, and a cup of coffee for himself. Aziraphale has moved from the foot of the bed to the top, and slid between the sheets right in the middle. He looks small and cozy, all snug in the pillows. Crowley smiles to himself as Azirapahle drifts back to awareness, smiling and sitting up to greet him.

"No, no- stay there, angel. I'll join you." Crowley slides in next to him, setting the tray over Aziraphale's legs and taking his coffee to warm his hands. Crowley watches him dig in sleepily, humming soft appreciative sounds with his eyes lidded half-shut.

"Happy Valentine's Day, angel."

"Oh, a happy Valentine's Day to you, my love." Aziraphale leans over to kiss him, the sweetness of the crepes lingering on Crowley's lips. "I've got a gift for you, my dear. I can't wait to give it to you tonight."

Crowley kisses him again, speaking softly against his lips as they pull apart, "You didn't have to do that, angel. But I can't wait to see it. And I've got yours, too."

"You did all of this, and it wasn't even your gift? Crowley, this is all far too much. I certainly don't think mine will match yours now! Ohh, my dear, I'm sorry-"Aziraphale says, with worry in his voice.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's not about that, believe me. I just want to be with you. I'm just happy the day seems to be losing its previous meaning for me."

"What do you mean?"

Crowley looks away, biting his lip in thought. He almost wishes he hadn't said anything.

"Oh my love, please tell me?"

"I, I just meant...it used to be a very difficult day for me. Without you, and all. And I was a bit worried it would still feel a bit...ya know?"

"Oh, darling. I know, I know. Is this why you wanted to go away? Why you felt you had to do so much for me?"

"I s'pose it was, yeah. Just...wanted to replace the memories, I guess. Is that why you're so concerned about your gift?"

Aziraphale sighs heavily, setting the tray aside and wringing his hands. "Well, not quite. The opposite, actually; I...I fear the day lost a lot of meaning for me over the years. Oh, I just- As an angel of love, I of all souls should...should love the day, shouldn't I? I just, I never wanted to make you feel unappreciated...unloved. I wanted to feel something."

"Ohhh, so that's what you've been so fretful about?"

"I have?"

"Do we need to bring up the mellow comment again?"

"No, I see your point."

"I feel loved, angel. Do you love me?"

"Heavens, yes! Of course I do!"

"And how do you feel about being here, and celebrating with me?"

"It's wonderful, of course!"

"And when you think about us this time next year, how do you feel?"

Aziraphale considers as a small smile breaks over his face, illuminating his eyes with hope. Crowley takes his cheek gently, kissing him with a smile of his own.

"See?"

"I suppose neither of us have anything to worry about after all."

"I suppose not."

Aziraphale pushes hair from Crowley's face as they kiss again, tasting of crepes and coffee and a sense of newness.

***

Crowley had left him in the library to explore with a cup of cocoa about an hour ago. When the smell of spices and sauce wafted through the small cottage, Aziraphale's tummy began to rumble. He emerged to find the table set with white linens, fine china, and lovely long tapers. Crowley turns, handing him a glass of wine, dressed in a very dapper black tuxedo.

"Oh, I find myself quite underdressed!"

"Not a problem, angel. I've got something laid out for you in the bedroom. Why don't you go change, it's nearly ready."

Aziraphale gives a sly smile before heading off to get ready. He hadn't packed a suit, let alone a tuxedo. Perhaps Crowley miracled something for him, he thinks, hoping it's his style. But when he enters the bedroom, all he finds is the plush white robe, and a hand -written note tied to a white rose.

You're never more beautiful than when you're relaxed and comfortable. Love, love, so much love- Crowley

That sweet, cheeky man of mine, Aziraphale thinks. A few moments later, Aziraphale returns, already a bit tipsy and well relieved he didn't have to worry about whether or not Crowley would know his taste in fine clothing. He does, however, understand his tastes in fine food; and the dinner looks absolutely irresistible. Much like Crowley in his dinner attire.

Crowley takes him by the hand, kissing it softly and leading him to the table, where he pulls the chair out for him before helping him scoot forward. Crowley sets a plate down in front of him before taking his own seat next to Aziraphale.

"Oh, you're not sitting across from me? Is that not the way of things?"

"Do you want me to sit over there?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Good." Crowley toasts their glasses as Aziraphale goes to drink from his wine. "Enjoy. And just because i finally can, Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart. I adore you."

"Oh, Crowley. I'm speechless."

As they pick at the last bites of their meals, both beyond stuffed and quite happy about it, Aziraphale decides it's time to give Crowley his gift.

"Would you join me outside? Perhaps a dip in the jacuzzi?"

"Sounds perfect, angel. I'll meet you out there."

*************************

Aziraphale takes Crowley's hand as he steps over the wall into the hot water, sinking in slowly as the cool air fades into relaxing foam around his torso and shoulders.

"Now this is something. Really, angel- good call."

The stars shine bright over the waves, illuminated further by the silver glow of the moon on the breaking water. They both watch the stars in awe as Aziraphale leans in, resting a head over Crowley's shoulder.

"That's it right there, isn't it?" Aziraphale points to the distance.

"Yeah, that's it. Still hoping to take you there someday. Think you'd love it."

"Oh, I know I would."

"Yeah?"

"I saw it a few weeks ago. Even spoke to the Almighty about it. Turns out it's been vacant for a while. Lovely, though- you did a wonderful job on it."

"You went without me?"

"I'm sorry, dear. I had to check it out before I committed to anything."

"Committed to what?"

Aziraphale turns to Crowley, eyes bright with an impatient smile.

"Whaaaaaat?" Crowley prods mischievously.

"Well, as I expected, we've nothing to apologize for. The trials were silly things, and She wasn't behind them. In fact, she made sure we got that hint as to how to survive them. When I asked if we could use it as sort of a celestial second home, she thought it was a great idea."

"What!?"

" It's ours, Crowley. Alpha Centauri, it's ours now."

"Oh, angel. I can't-that's, that's wonderful! Angel, that's so thoughtful. Thank you, thank you..." Crowley peppers kisses over his face and neck, laughing with joy.

"Although it does sort of overshadow my gift..." Crowley blushes. He reaches into the pocket of his robe nearby, pulling out a small gold key.

"What's this?"

"Goes to the front door or the cottage. I bought it a long time ago, hoping..."

"Crowley, this is...this is so perfect."

"I'm glad you like it, angel. But..." he smiles awkwardly, gesturing towards the sky.

"But what?"

"Well, it's a bit of a let down, don'cha think? I mean, you got us a star. I just got us a little cottage in the South Downs."

"Crowley, don't you see? We both thought the most perfect gift was just somewhere we go to be together. I may have chosen a star, but you chose somewhere close to our actual home. Somewhere familiar, somewhere we already know we love. We chose Earth over and over again because we love it so much; I find that incredibly romantic."

"Yeah?"

"Really." Aziraphale whispers, leaning back to kiss Crowley deeply. "But don't forget dear- you're my real home."

"You're mine, too love." And there they stay, watching the stars from the comfort of their own little patch of paradise.

***

On their last night in the cottage, Crowley sits in the tub, relaxed against the porcelain side with Aziraphale warm and half-asleep against him. He considers all the years he spent, convinced that this exact thing was not only unlikely, but impossible. Aziraphale smiles triumphantly, recalling the ones that passed with numb indifference. And as they kiss joyfully, already planning their first visit to the stars and their next visit to the cottage, and looking forward to seeing the home they made together back in London, they think about their favorite home; right here in the arms of the one who feels like comfort, no matter where they find themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is partially inspired by a conversation I had with azfell. I was planning on having them give one another these 'homes' in the fic anyway, but I really found the meaning behind it while we were discussing watching the show again for Valentine's Day. I brought up this overwhelming feeling i got that they had found home in one another, and thought "Wow, that seems appropriate."


End file.
